For the first time, Ben Rossi sounded like a sensible man.
“You’d better ask. I’ll probably throttle her.”
“Would prefer not to arrest you.”
The long silence bothered Dennis. Bothered him a lot. He couldn’t see what was going on and that detective had better not be flirting with his wife.
No more words, just footsteps going away and then the opening and closing of the door and the lights being extinguished as they left.
He forced himself to wait for five minutes, then squeezed out of the space. If Jack had hidden something in it, then got a message to Ellie to look for it…what would it be? Code for another safe, a password to something? Or a clue to what happened to him?
Meredith denied all knowledge. Why would anyone go in there, amongst dusty old books and desks belonging to the eighteenth century? Jack and Ellie kept their little secrets and she didn’t care. She said all of this before telling them to leave and flouncing from the room.
Ben and Ellie’s eyes met and they almost burst into laughter.
“Shall we go?”
“Why? This is Dad’s house, not hers. I’d like to take a look around.”
“For?”
Ellie led the way from the living room to the back of the house. “Maybe someone found the bottle and thought it was full.” She flicked on a light and went inside. A billiards table took up one side, whilst a long bar ran along the other wall.
“This is a possible place.” Ellie rummaged around behind the bar. “Not that Meredith can tell the difference between quality liquor and some cheap stuff she’d drink.”
“You’re not her biggest fan.” Ben perched on a stool.
“I don’t dislike her. After all, Dad loves her, I imagine.” Ellie straightened with a frown. “Not here.”
“But?”
“But? Oh, Meredith. She doesn’t appreciate what she has. Or Dad.”
“And she should be grateful? For the lifestyle and money being his wife brings?”
Ellie stared at Ben. “I didn’t say that. And I’d like to go home now if that’s okay.”
The drive was silent until they reached the city.
“Drop me anywhere, Ben. No need to weave all the way in.”
“Sure.” Ben kept driving. “How long have Meredith and Jack been married?”
“Six years. I thought he’d never remarry so it was a surprise. But he seemed happy again.”
“He was alone a long time.”
“Gabi left when I was nine. So yes, a long time.” Ellie gazed out of the window.
“Do you see her? Your mother?”
“Now and then. She still has her little cabin in Gippsland but is off on adventures on her yacht most of the time. Sometimes she goes to spend a week near…well, Michael. But she hasn’t been to Melbourne since…since my wedding.”
“Which was how long ago?”
Ellie glanced at Ben as he drove through the evening traffic. “I married Dennis five years ago.”
His jaw clenched for a second or two then he stopped at a red light and looked at Ellie. “We should talk.”
She shook her head.
“Ellie—”
“This is close enough. Thanks for the lift.” Ellie wrenched open the door and was out and into the night before he could respond.
8
What We Hide
Dennis locked himself into the guest house where he’d made himself at home the day Jack disappeared.
Meredith had been hysterical when he’d explained Jack’s no-show and begged him to stay. Much as he liked the idea of moving straight in with her, that wasn’t his head talking. At least, not the decision-making one. The guest house was a compromise.
He left the bottle on the kitchen counter and searched for something to draw out the contents. In the bathroom cupboard was a pair of tweezers.
Was this really a message from Jack to Ellie? How many other secrets were hidden around the place? He was learning a whole lot about his wife tonight, including her interest in, or by, the detective.
The tightly wound paper was an envelope and addressed to Ellie in Jack’s handwriting on Jack’s personal stationery. It looked as though it had been crumpled into a ball and then straightened and rolled. Dennis flattened it out, then stalked away to find a drink. What made Ellie come looking tonight? Something must have made her believe whatever was in the bottle was important.
After a gulp of Jack’s blue gin, Dennis slid a single sheet of paper from the envelope.
As he scanned the note, the glass dropped from his fingers, smashing into shards on the floor.
Instead of going to her apartment, Ellie let herself into Bannerman House. Dominating the corner of two of Melbourne’s busiest streets, it was fully owned by Jack and the home of Bannerman Wealth Group, but also leased in part to several smaller companies to house their operations. BWG used the top five floors, plus four lower ones, and shared a number of common spaces.
The huge foyer was deserted. Even the security guards were absent from the long reception desk. As she waited for the elevator, Ellie gazed at the space around her. The first three floors were almost completely open and filled with foliage, comfortable seating areas, and two water features. Behind reception, a massive seascape reminded her of childhood summers spent on board one of the yachts.
With a soft ‘ding’ the elevator opened. Ellie tapped her key card on the reader and selected the sub-penthouse floor. In a moment she stepped out to a darkened reception area. She glanced to her office, neglected since her return.
My poor baby.
Almost six years ago, she returned from a long break overseas to find Dennis settled into her former job as Dad’s right hand. Jack Bannerman didn’t give people a second chance if they let him down, but agreed she could have a new role when she proposed a charity foundation. She’d lost count of how many people they’d helped so far.
Her destination wasn’t her own office, but Dad’s. Ellie paused at Joni’s desk. Had anyone spoken to her about Dad? Jack trusted his staff, few more than Joni, so perhaps there was something he’d shared with her.
Ellie let herself into his office, closing the door behind herself. His chair was pushed in, his desk tidy as always. She rested both hands on the back of the chair, imagining for one moment her father was seated there, busy writing a report or on a Skype call. Joni might hurry in with papers to sign, or bring yet another coffee.
She sighed and pulled the chair out. Remnants of his familiar after-shave lingered on the leather.
Dad, where on earth are you?
Ellie sucked in a long breath to the bottom of her lungs to calm her racing heart. She’d find him. She had to.
She opened the top drawer. The contents were neat, minimal, and required. He was not a man for clutter or hoarding. If something wasn’t useful, it didn’t stay. The only exception was a small collection of items of sentimental value.
The second drawer held two large envelopes, typical of the ones he sent and received all the time. She didn’t open them. Campbell kept an eye on those sorts of thing so would know if anything unusual was going on.
She reached for the bottom drawer, interrupted by a sound outside the office. A door closing. Ellie watched for a moment, but seeing no movement through the glass, lost interest.